Letting Go
by Kuroi-cho-tsuki-shiro
Summary: Rukia's friendship with Renji is tested as they begin their training and she faces an encounter that may change her life forever. A series of shorts based on the story of Bleach from Rukia's point of view. 17
1. Chapter 1

In truth, she didn't know what to expect.

Entering the soul reaper academy was not an easy process, not least because Rukia's background caused consternation amongst the _shinigami. _With no family and no memories of a life on earth, she could provide them only with her forename and was told bluntly that she did not exist. When her perseverence encouraged them to believe otherwise, she was branded _ryoka, _a spirit that had entered the Soul Society without the escort of a death-god: a wild card, a danger. While Renji Abarai appeared on their census, there was no Rukia to speak of in their records, and, since their records were meticulous, it became necessary for her to undergo a series of checks before she was finally back where she had begun, registered as a soul within the Seventy-Eighth district of Rukongai. Only after that, would they begin to consider her application to the academy.

A full seven years had passed by the time they entered the _Shino._

For two kids from Rukongai, the Court of Pure Souls was a different world, and Rukia's first impressions were of wealth and decadence. The people in Inuzuri had held the death-gods in high esteem, but that had never stopped them speaking bitterly of the riches they'd accrued. The _Sereitei _was home to the four noble bloodlines of Soul Society. Each could be traced back to the Soul King and they, in turn, were the wellspring of a dozen or more branches of lesser nobility. Tradition had it that the _Gotei _Thirteen, the thirteen active divisions of the _shinigami, _were drawn from these noble lines. Yet the actuality was different. The _Shinoreijutsuin, _their training academy, had been forced to open its doors to any souls possessing a high spiritual pressure. It was considered dangerous to allow them to roam, unchecked, in the streets of the Rukon. And so it was with reluctance that the death-gods began to let outsiders into their ranks.

Rukia felt their reticence keenly. Knowing that she would be out of place here was part of the reason she'd hesitated to join their ranks. And there was her pride too.

She saw no shame in having grown up in Inuzuri and it jarred with her that others did. Worse still was their assumption that she should be grateful for being granted entry into their world. It never once occurred to her fellow students that, though she now slept in a warm bed with the trappings of luxury, their steadfast belief that her life, up until that point, had been without worth only broadened the gap between them.

But it really was a warm bed. And a room, in the academy dormitories, with a roof that didn't leak. Clean, new clothes. A library full of books. Food and drink that she no longer had to fight for. And, of course, there were the other students: hundreds of young men and women who shared the same powers that had made her and Renji pariah on the streets of Rukongai. It didn't matter if she didn't fit in yet, she told herself; she felt certain that she would find a place here.

The training programme was strenuous, a combination of lectures and practical, physical training of a sort that she could not have prepared for. She knew how to defend herself, but these were martial arts, which required discipline and concentration: things she had never had to learn in Inuzuri. The lectures too were strange for her. She knew how to read, which was something, but she'd never before been asked to absorb information, and there was so much that she was meant to remember, from the history of the organisation to scientific theories on the union and tranfer of spirits. Through it all, the _Gotei _ Thirteen instilled in their recruits a sense of purpose and duty, which did not exist in their lives outside the institute. They were promised a chance to see and touch something so much larger than themselves: the constant stream of souls between worlds. They were promised powers beyond their wildest dreams. And, as much as it was tempting to dismiss this as empty talk and the promotion of a set of rigid values, something crept in between the cracks in their philosophy: something insistent and instinctive. For Rukia, it was the notion that her life, up until this point, had not been a mere series of haphazard events culminating in coincidence. She wanted to believe she had been brought to this place for a reason, driven here by the power she'd possessed since birth. There was a reason, she thought: there had to be a reason.

The classes were rigorously streamed.

She and Renji at once dropped to the very bottom of any seminars where they were expected to hand in assignments. Written work was not their forte, but at least it meant they could attend those lectures together. In contrast to Rukia, however, Renji excelled in martial combat and was streamed into one of the most prestigious classes. They now spent most of their time apart. Within weeks, Rukia felt herself changing.

She'd never been this quiet. She'd never cast her eyes down before as she walked through the corridors, or held back when there were words on the tip of her tongue. But she knew now that she was neither particularly strong nor particularly clever. Her classmates saw a girl from Rukongai. An aberration in their world. When she opened her mouth to speak, she could taste their expectations: that she would give herself away; make another mistake. And she made many in those first few weeks, proving to them what they already knew: that a girl from the streets was incapable of competing with them.

In one lecture, the tutor, a _shinigami _dressed in a black _shihakusho, _asked a question and Renji rose out of his seat, one hand in the air. He was four rows back from the front of the class. He called out the answer and a terrible silence descended. Rukia felt it like a punch in the gut and shrank down in her seat, looking hard at the papers before her. Renji glanced from side to side.

"Correct," said the teacher: "But perhaps the young man would care to learn some manners before he springs out of his seat."

Renji sat down. All around him, the students were laughing, all save for Rukia who, seated several rows behind her old friend, found herself staring hard at the back of his neck. He had flushed, and he kept his head down for the rest of the class.

When it finished, he didn't move. He let the other students file out around him and sat, shuffling his papers. Rukia descended the stairs in the middle of the lecture theatre, checked they were alone, and then spoke quickly:

"I like the old Renji. I like the Renji who puts up his hand and stands up and answers a question. I like the Renji who shouts out."

He stared at her, then he barked out a laugh. It was a harsh sound:

"What's gotten into you?"

"I just wanted to tell you."

She studied his face. Since starting at the academy, he had acquired tattoos: dark lines that ran along his hairline. She wasn't sure she liked them. She'd grown used to his features framed by his mane of long red hair. The tattoos made him seem to scowl a little:

"Well, I can't be hanging around here," he said, picking up his papers: "Because, unlike you, I am in the special class."

He was joking, she knew. He had no compunctions about teasing her, yet something in his tone made her feel as if it was she who had spoken out of turn.

She watched him leave.

Thereafter, it became apparent to Rukia that Renji's experiences in the academy were wholly different to her own. His talents, as a fighter, earned him the respect of his fellow students. She rarely saw him now without the company of at least two others: a small woman who wore her hair under a demure cap, and a man with a flush of blond hair that hung always over one eye. Neither of them bore any resemblence to the friends they had had in Rukongai. By the way, he held himself, she guessed the man was a noble. There was something tentative about him too: a darting, nervous look in his eyes. Nothing could have been further from Renji's own demeanour and she couldn't help but wonder what had set them off on the path to friendship.

Renji still came looking for her. On their days off, they would return to Rukongai or, more frequently, to the foothills of the Rukon where the open fields and forests offered sanctuary from the pace of life at the academy. On such days, she could forget the strange weight of the choices she'd made. They would go climbing together and the only reminder that she was no longer a child was the new strength in her body.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Author's Note: Well, it's London Comic Con this weekend, so a slightly earlier upload than usual as won't have a chance over the next few days. If you are going along yourself - HI! I'll be with the Bleach group, of course. :)_**

It was the end of their first year in the _Shinoreijutsuin, _three weeks before exams. The corridors were filled with students, some hurrying to their next class, others milling, waiting to meet their friends. Rukia, as was more often the case than not these days, was burdened with a pile of books and a desire to find somewhere secluded to read them. She usually shared this free period with Renji, so when she saw him walking ahead of her, she quickened her pace.

"Renji!"

He turned. The man and woman on either side of him turned too. From the expressions on their faces, she guessed that they recognised her though they'd never been formally introduced. She wondered, briefly, how Renji had explained her away to them. He didn't even bother to hide his discomfort at being approached in the company of his new friends. Yet, brazenly, she pushed on: "Are you coming to study?"

"Now isn't a good time," he said. It was then that she noticed that all three had tote bags slung over their shoulders and were carrying their lunches, packed for travel, at their sides. On their hips, they wore their swords. Rukia stared:

"Are you going to the world of the living?"

Renji grinned and touched the hilt of the katana at his side:

"Special training in the field. It's just our class; you know, the special class." He was teasing her again, but, this time, she couldn't brush it off with a smile. The blond student at Renji's side touched his shoulder:

"Come on, we're going to be late."

She was glad when the three of them turned away because they could no longer see her expression.

He knew how much she had wanted to see the human world. He knew because they'd talked about it since they were children. He knew because he'd been the only one, like her, without memories.

Of course, it was his right to rub it in her face. She'd learned to expect nothing less from Renji. It was almost a mark of his respect for her that he had never treated her with kid gloves. But this time, it hurt. She'd be damned before she let him see that. Keeping her head down, she turned and walked away.


	3. Chapter 3

They had called her out of the lesson.

"Somebody wants to meet with you, Rukia."

Whatever it was for, she was fairly certain it wasn't something good. She hadn't excelled at anything this year. Though she expected her grades in _kido _to be above average, she was, across the board, mediocre in her studies. Exam results would be published that afternoon. It was not, all things considered, a good time to be called out of class for a private meeting.

The tutor escorted her to a neighbouring classroom, let her in and closed the door behind her.

She froze. Transfixed.

There were five men in the room. Three were dressed in a white uniform and wore veils that covered their faces. Though they carried staffs and the trappings of body-guards, the clean cut of their attire suggested they were their for show rather than practical defence. Indeed, everything about the man standing in the centre of the room suggested that he was perfectly capable of defending himself.

He was the most exquisite creature she had ever laid eyes on. Dressed in the uniform of a _shinigami, _though not a tall man, everything about him was imposing. His pale, ageless face was framed by lines of long black hair. Above his left temple, he wore the _kenseikan: _silver hair clips that marked him out as nobility. Yet it was neither his beauty nor his standing that had rooted her to the spot. No, it was the power that she could sense burning off him.

If it seemed to her sometimes that Renji's _reiatsu, _considerably more powerful than her own, felt like the heat from a sun, then this man's was like a hundred million suns. To even step close would be to burn up in it. And yet, as she stood there, she felt it fluctuate a little and she realised that he was holding it back. Who the hell was this man?

It had fluctuated, she realised a second later, at the very moment that he had seen her. Had his eyes widened slightly? They were slate grey and as devoid of emotion as his face was devoid of age.

An elderly man at his side spoke: either a retainer or a relative of lesser standing; Rukia had barely noticed he was there:

"Your name is Rukia?" She nodded wordlessly. "Approach."

She hesitated, then took a step closer. Though the _shinigami's _eyes bore into her, she did not burst into flame or evaporate in his light. When she was close enough that he could have reached out to touch her, the older turned to him. A silent question. The _shinigami _never took his eyes off her as he spoke. One word. So softly. But with such conviction:

"Yes."

Then the older man began to speak.

She had to concentrate to understand his words through the soft hiss in her ears that was her sense of the other's spiritual energy. And even when she had understood them, she didn't believe them. It was a deal, an offer that the old man was brokering.

When he finished, she realised that she was meant to answer. But she didn't trust herself to speak.

"Rukia!"

She didn't need to turn. Renji's presence was little more than a stain on the bright and perfect light radiating off of the other man, but she would recognise him anywhere. She heard her old friend falter and fall silent, faced with a scene in which he had no part.

"Hm," said the older man, incorporating into the sound all the contempt that he could muster at their interruption: "Well, we shall leave you now, Rukia. We await your positive reply."

They trailed out, the old man, the _shinigami _and his three body-guards. The door closed behind them and she turned to see Renji trembling: his body's own reaction to the _reiatsu._

"Ah, Rukia," he said, rubbing the back of his neck as if he could expunge the sensation: "They looked serious. What were they talking to you about?"

She walked back to where he was standing. She wasn't sure if she was shivering because of the pressure that still lingered in the air or if it was from the words of the deal that were circling in her head:

"His name is Byakuya Kuchiki. He's captain of the Sixth Division, and he wishes to adopt me into his family." Even to her, it didn't sound real: "If I accept, I'll graduate with immediate effect and they'll arrange for me to be drafted into the _Gotei _Thirteen."

They stared at each other.

It felt like a lifetime ago that they had slept in one another's arms. She didn't know what to say, but Renji suddenly reached forward and grasped her by the shoulders, nearly shaking her off her feet:

"Rukia! You lucky bitch! That's brilliant! It's what you've always wanted! You've found a family! After all these years, you've found a family!"

She stared at him. At his stupid, happy face. If he didn't understand now then he probably never would. She had never wanted a family. All she had wanted was someone who didn't find it quite so easy to let her go.

She placed her hands gently on his forearms and pushed them away. He didn't resist, although, as she so pointedly refused his touch, his smile faded into confusion.

They would not touch again.

She wondered if he had realised that yet or if he knew that this was why her hand lingered just a little too long on his arm. If he was willing to lose her though, then she was willing to be lost.

"Thanks Renji," she said as she stepped past him. He saw that she was crying, but he didn't try to stop her.


	4. Chapter 4

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